


so we're slaves to any semblance of touch

by blushing_pretzel



Series: In Which She Lived [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, BAMF Ron Weasley, Female Harry Potter, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Harry is Chrysanthemum, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm fem!harry trash, Infidelity, Multi, Porn with Feelings, Remus Lupin Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:47:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23565547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blushing_pretzel/pseuds/blushing_pretzel
Summary: Seamus never loved her. Buthedid. And how sweet it was, to love him too.It was shameful, knowing how they'd lied to themselves for so long, they all had.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan/Harry Potter
Series: In Which She Lived [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1167038
Comments: 6
Kudos: 125





	1. i

**Author's Note:**

> I should be working on No Time to Breathe, but I'm 100% fem!Harry x Ron trash.
> 
> Named for lyrics in Hozier's song Sedated and influenced heavily by his music.

Chrysanthemum Potter knew she had screwed up. She’d known since the moment Remus had given her away. Looking back on it, Chris realized she was just too caught up in the flowers, food, and excitement that Hermione, Fleur, Ginny, and Molly had whisked her into. The feeling she had, putting on that beautiful white wedding gown, that should’ve been enough to warn her. She thought it was joy. But rather, it was nothing but regret.

(The joy Chris felt walking down the aisle had been real. It was just that she had convinced herself she was walking to one of the men beside the groom. Remus had given her away to the wrong man.)

And here she was, a year and a month later, lying in bed next to her snoring husband, when she remembered that the cologne he smelt of now was not the same he had put on this morning. Chris stared at him in the young moonlight.

He was wrong, all wrong. When his eyes were open, they didn’t have the right shade of blue. He was too short, too broad. His nose too short, his hands too small, his skin too clear of freckles. In the moonlight, it was clear that his hair was the wrong color- sandy, not the vibrant red that swam through her mind consistently.

Seamus was a good enough guy, Chris knew.

(Aside from the cheating on her. Not with another woman, but with a man. One man in particular. She was all wrong to him too. She was too short, too pale, too redheaded, too much Chrysanthemum and not enough _Dean_.)

Chris rolled off the bed and grabbed her wand. Seamus wouldn’t miss her, he never did when she left at night. He trusted her. Or he didn’t, and just didn’t show it. Or he just felt guilty. It was likely a combination of the first and third options. Seamus knew that she would always go Ron or Hermione- they were her people, her comfort. It wasn’t like he provided her with much comfort, anyway. He didn’t understand her mind and he knew that. She needed Ron and Hermione and he trusted that. And even if he didn’t trust her, he was still cheating on her. He had been, since the moment they came home from their honeymoon.

She sighed.

Was tonight the breaking point?

He’d come home late. Dinner had been cold, but he didn’t mind. He was so bloody happy. It had thrown Chris off. She wasn’t irritated that he was late, she never was, but dammit, she was irritated at his happiness.

(The first few times he’d been late coming home had bothered her. She knew he was lying when he blamed it on work. Seamus worked in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts department, under Arthur Weasley. Chris attended dinners with the Weasleys too often for that excuse to be viable.)

When asked why his mood was so great, he’d smiled at her. Then he said it.

_“We should have a baby, **Chrissy**.”_

She hated that name on his lips. _Chrissy_. It was too feminine coming from him. She’d told him time and time again not to call her that. _Chrissy_ , that was saved for select people. The ones she’d run with, the people who’d saved her. Hermione and Ron, Ron and Hermione. Ginny too, along with the rest of the Weasley family. _Her_ family.

Despite that, Chris had swallowed her irritation and her disgust at him. She was gentle when she shot the idea down, excusing herself by claiming her work as an Auror was too important to interrupt with a child. He had understood but didn’t bother to hide his disappointment.

Chris was disgusted.

How dare he? How dare he ask her to have a child when he was off _fucking_ someone else not even an hour before? Did he get fucked so hard he got all the common sense knocked out of him? She was not bringing a child into this mess. Besides, what was he thinking? She was hardly 23. Chris had told him, back when they were just dating and long before she realized her mistake, that she didn’t want a child until she was at least 25. She slipped out of the room quietly.

Ginny’s pointed looks haunted her. Hermione’s ‘ _are you sure_ ’ rattled around in her mind. Molly’s tears held different meaning. Ron’s ‘ _I’m happy for you_ ’ squeezed her heart.

Her floo journey was quick. Bustling Muggle London wasn’t far from the small house in the suburbs she lived in. Her destination was the same as it always was, at least three times a week.

_Ron._

He was in his sitting room, eyes glued to the telly that her and Hermione had taught him how to use. He had two mugs of hot chocolate on the coffee table at the ready, his in his favorite orange mug and hers in her yellow one. Hermione’s green one was still in Ron’s cupboard, gathering dust until she was free to join him again.

“Mumz, there you are,” He tore his gaze away from the movie and grinned up at her. Then his brow raised questioningly, “When’d you steal that one?”

Chris shrugged as she looked down at one of the many shirts she’s ‘borrowed’ from him. This one in particular was one of his old jerseys from Hogwarts. “I think last month?”

“Mate, you’ve really gotta get some of your own clothes eventually,” He laughed a bit before patting the spot next to him on the couch.

“What are we watching tonight?”

“Forrest Gump. I just started it, you didn’t miss anything.”

“Mmm, okay.” She took her spot next to him and grabbed her mug. As the movie continued, she found herself glancing at Ron more often than she usually did. Nothing was out of the ordinary. She was curled up into Ron’s side, his arm wrapped around her, and they were enjoying their time. But she couldn’t stop looking up at him.

(If she’d married him…

_Stop, Chrysanthemum._

The thought continued against her internal demands.

If she’d married him, he never would’ve cheated on her. He would always be on time for dinner, especially one she’d made. Unless, of course, he had a game or practice ran long, but he’d have the decency to let her know what time he’d be home. Chris never would’ve felt regret as Remus gave her away in front of hundreds of people. And Ron wouldn’t have even suggested kids for at least another two years. But even if he had… She would consider it with him. Her mind drifted to when she and Ron met Scorpius last month, the unexpected child of Hermione and Draco and the reason why Hermione hadn’t joined them on one of their nights in a while. If Ron had asked…)

“You know, it took you and Hermione years to teach me staring is rude,” His voice was low and full of humor as he met her eyes.

Chris burned red.

“What’s going on?” Ron asked, grabbing the remote and quickly finding the pause button.

“Seamus wants a baby,” Chris admitted. All of the sudden, she couldn’t read the look on Ron’s face.

“Oh,” He nodded a bit and spoke with a chipper tone to hide his obvious sadness, “So our nights are gonna be down to me then, huh?”

Chris shook her head viciously.

“I don’t want a baby. At least not with _him_.” The way she spoke caught Ron off guard. He furrowed his brows.

“Are you two okay?”

“No,” Her lower lip began to tremble.

Ron’s face grew tense with anger, “Is he hurting you? If he is I’ll-”

“He hasn’t hurt me Ron,” Chris turned and faced him, not letting his hold on her slip, “He’s cheating on me.”

His eyes widened a bit but the anger didn’t fade.

“He’s cheating on _you_?” His tone was laced with surprise, “What’s wrong with him? You’re bloody perfect.”

Her cheeks reddened at his words.

“I… I’m not a man. I don’t have a dick,” She said, laughing humorlessly. Ron’s face almost gave her a real laugh. But then the gravity of the situation hit her again.

“This isn’t fair to you,” Ron sighed.

“I mean, I haven’t been fair to him, Ron.”

The unreadable expression from when she mentioned Seamus wanting a baby returned.

“What do you mean?”

“When I walked down the aisle, I wasn’t looking at him,” She said slowly.

Ron’s breath caught in his throat.

(He kicked, kicked, kicked himself when he thought back to the wedding. When his Chrysanthemum walked down the aisle, he deluded himself into thinking she was walking towards him. Chris’s eyes never left his, not until she reached Seamus. He wanted to object. He should’ve objected. He’d felt Ginny’s glare, Hermione’s knowing look, and his mother’s sad eyes. George had been mouthing something to him, encouraging him. Hell, even Remus had sent him a pleading look. By Chris had looked so happy, so beautiful.)

“I spend all my time with someone other than him,” Chris continued, “I’ve never loved Seamus. I… Ron.”

Ron’s baby blues gazed into her emerald ones as he leaned to her. He pressed his forehead to hers. Chris’s eyes fluttered closed as she let him cup her cheeks. She rested her hands on his forearms, butterflies filling her stomach at the feeling of his hands on her. His lips hovered less than a centimeter from hers.

“Bloody Hell… Tell me not to, Chris,” He breathed. Chris shivered. He smelled of chocolate, much to her amusement. She filed that thought away for later, because here and now, Ron was real, so very real, and she needed him to make her believe it. She could feel his pulse under her fingers- maybe it was hers- but that still wasn’t enough.

“I can’t do that, Ron,” She murmured.

“Good.”

His lips met hers softly. Chris felt her heart stop, only for it to start again in such a way that made her believe she hadn’t been one of the living before. There was an innocence in the sin they were committing, one of pure intention. Entangled at the lips, Ron moved one hand away from her face and wrapped it around her waist. He pulled her small frame into his lap, not once parting from her. She found herself enjoying his arms around her in this manner more than she ever imagined. It was minutes later that they finally broke the kiss, realizing they couldn’t survive on just each other.

Ron stared at her, a lopsided smile on his swollen lips. Chris found herself smiling back. His gaze reminded her of the one her father gave her mother in the pictures she had on the walls of her house. Remus had the same look for Tonks when she was alive and Chris had often seen it on Arthur’s face for Molly.

Love.

“I should’ve told you,” She said quietly.

“You’re telling me now,” He ran his hand along her side, caressing her, “And I’m telling you too, my Chrysanthemum.” He closed his eyes, embracing the moment.

(There’d been so few times in their lives where he’d been like this- raw, emotional. The last time she could recall was just the night before she got married. He’d been out in the garden of the Burrow, where she originally planned to get married. But Seamus had insisted on inviting more people and really, Chris couldn’t impose like that.

Ron had been arguing with George in harsh whispers, only to stop when he saw her. George smiled at her, dropped a kiss onto her forehead, and disappeared into the house.

“ _You’re getting married tomorrow._ ” She’d expected him to make jokes, to say something awkward. But he didn’t. He wrapped his arms around her tight and held her as if it was the last time he’d see her. “ _I’m happy for you._ ”)

“I love you, Chrissy,” He finally said. Her heart fluttered. _Chrissy_. When he said it, she felt like she was herself, that she wasn’t an imposter in this world.

For the first time in what felt like forever, she laughed joyfully. Through her giggles, she said, “I love you!”

Ron laughed with her and hugged her to him, sitting up straight. He kissed her again, smile on his face. Their laughs didn’t stop, except for brief moments when they would share a kiss.

(How had it taken so long? Almost thirteen years they’d known each other, how had they never realized this?)

The clock had barely struck midnight when they’d fallen into bed together.

It wasn’t frantic like Chris always assumed it would’ve been. Nor was it hurried and rushed like it was with Seamus, those limited times they’d done it. No, with Ron, he was gentle and loving and passionate. He was everything.

He had kissed her softly before he scooted down her body, pulling her flannel pants off. He sent her a smug look at her panties- Chudley Cannons themed.

She reddened, “I have a pair of Hollyhead Harpies ones too.”

“Mhm,” He grinned up at her as he slid them down her legs. On instinct, she pressed her thighs together. Ron gently pushed her legs apart, his eyes on hers.

“You don’t need to…” Chris began softly, face burning. She looked away, her courage cowering in the deepest corners of her mind.

“I want to,” He assured, rubbing her thigh, “Has _he_ never done this for you, Chris?”

She shook her head.

“I promise you, there’s nothing more I want than to do this,” He said, “I want you to feel good. You’re what matters here. May I have the pleasure of pleasuring you?”

He wiggled his eyebrows and she snorted, “Okay, y-yes.”

Ron’s grin made the warmth pooled in her belly catch fire. He was quick to kiss the inside of each of her thighs before slowly licking up her slit. She shuddered and gasped as she felt his mouth on _her_. He licked her clit softly, as if testing her, before devouring her. Her hands found their place in his hair as he pushed one of his fingers into her, curling it and pumping it slowly. Chris cried out softly, attempting to keep her voice down.

Ron pulled away for but a second, lust clouding his eyes, “Be loud, Darling. I need to hear you.”

At her nod, he took his place between her legs once more, kissing and licking and sucking her clit. She moaned loudly, feeling lightheaded at the sensations he was creating for her. How was he this spectacular? She nearly screamed as he added a second finger and stretched her gently.

Ron continued on, drinking her in as if he was dying of thirst. Each tug of his hair encouraged him, pushed him to tear those beautiful noises from her throat. Chris felt overwhelmed as she felt a coil inside her tighten more and more as Ron _fucked_ her with his face and fingers. And then it burst.

He smirked slightly when he felt her tight walls clench on his fingers and her perfectly thick thighs squeeze his head just enough. Her scream of his name, one of pure pleasure ripped through the air, making Ron moan at the noise. How wonderful it sounded, his name falling of her lips in such a way.

He helped her ride her orgasm out, curling his fingers inside her and sucking at her sweet little bundle of nerves that tasted like the finest of wines to him. Ron finally pulled away and grinned proudly at her. She looked perfect like this. Her chest heaved as she laid on _his_ bed, still in the jersey with _his name_ on it, and _his._

His words echoed his thoughts, “Mine. You’re mine.”

“Yours,” She agreed, smiling lazily up at him. Chris watched as he shed his shirt and sweats, leaving him only in his boxers.

“I never thought I’d get to tell you how much I love seeing you with _my_ jersey on you. _My_ name on you,” Ron said, leaning down and kissing her neck, “But as much as I love it, I would really like to see you without anything on.”

Chris grinned, “I can understand that.” She sat up, letting him pull it off. Her bra was orange, causing him to snort. She rolled her eyes.

“My favorite color,” He snickered, playing with the strap.

“I wear this one every time I come over,” She admitted.

“It’s a good choice,” He said with a hint of pride in his tone, “Shame it’s gotta come off.”

Chris would’ve been surprised at how quickly he was able to unhook it and pull it off but had her train of thought interrupted by him kissing her and cupping her breasts, kneading them softly. Her own hands drifted down and she began to tug his boxers down. He pulled back from her and tossed them away. Ron’s turn to blush came when he saw Chris, _his Chrysanthemum_ , staring at him with wide eyes.

“Erm, mate, you’re staring,” He muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

(Oh, dear Merlin, he’d _never_ been this shy nor bashful in front of a woman before. Where was that confidence he had when he’d bedded those quidditch fan groupies?

Gone, far gone, because this wasn’t some groupie, this was Chrysanthemum. The only woman he thought about in the throes of not passion, because that was saved only for her, but rather _fucking_. He only ever saw her face beneath his when he came, never saying a word for fear that the random witch he was using for sex would blackmail him.)

“ _Sweet Circe_ , I… sorry Ron,” She whispered, “You’re bigger than I thought.”

He coughed.

“Sorry?”

“No, no, don’t be,” She grabbed his hands and pecked his lips, “You’re perfect.”

His heart skipped a beat. No one, not even the one steady girlfriend he’s had, Lavender, ever called him that.

“Gods, I love you,” Ron said as he stared at her.

She smiled brightly.

“I love you too,” Chris replied.

He kissed her again with a sense of desperation, laying her down on his bed and settling between her legs. Ron hoped she could feel the love he had for her, _only for her_ , radiating off of him. Chris broke the kiss, gazing up at him.

“Make love to me.” Her tone was so unlike anything Ron had ever heard that he couldn’t help but obey her wish- after all, it was his wish too.

He slid into her slowly, taking her inch by inch. There was no holding back the moan that rumbled from him. Chris clung to him, her eyes never moving from his.

“Ron,” She breathed out as he filled her completely.

(Morgana, how did he fit so perfectly with her? It was as if she’d been made just for him and him just for her. She’s think back later on that thought and conclude that yes, the Gods had made them just for each other.)

“Chrysanthemum,” He groaned, long and drawn out, “So tight, _fuck._ ”

Chris shivered at how primal he sounded in that moment. Her name, it belonged in his mouth, because the way he said it reminded her just how alive she was.

Ron moved in and out of her at a measured pace, taking his time to let her feel him and to feel her. If her small gasps and whimpers and _oh God her legs are wrapped around me_ were any indication, she was enjoying this just as much as he was. How beautiful she was in the bright moonlight, glowing. The slight sheen of sweat seemed to make her even more beautiful, _if that was possible_ , because that was him doing it to her.

“H-harder,” Chris demanded gently, “But not fast. Like this, but harder.”

“Yes, _yes_ ,” Ron obliged, keeping his thrusts slow, but putting more power behind them. He kissed her again, recreating the first one they’d shared just hours before. Years of pent up love, thought to be unrequited, exploded in them. Chris felt tears on her cheeks and realized they weren’t hers alone.

“I love you, I love you, _I love you,_ ” She sobbed to him as he continued to make love to her.

“I know, I love you too, _Chrysanthemum_ , I’m sorry,” He cried with her, “I love you so much.”

He began to speed up slightly, already close. Chris knew she was too- the overwhelming emotions between them was pushing her to the edge. Ron slipped the hand that wasn’t holding him up between them and found her clit, rolling it under his fingers.

“Come for me, _please_ , come for me,” He said, voice tight and heavy. Ron’s words pushed her and she couldn’t silence her scream as she came around him. Ron yelled out, _Chrissy_ falling off his lips with all the love in his soul, as he buried himself deep inside of her and came.

He collapsed beside her, panting. She found herself pulled into his arms, protective and strong. He was right, very right.

“I love you, my Chrissy,” He whispered into her ear and kissed her shoulder as he pulled his warm blanket over their bodies.

“I love you, Ron,” She murmured and laced her fingers into his as she allowed sleep to overtake her. Ron smiled into her hair and closed his eyes, basking at how so full his heart felt.

(It’d been so long since they’d fallen asleep alone together. Years, Ron recalled. The last time had been when they were 20, around the time Chris had gotten serious with Seamus and Hermione was engaged to Draco. It felt like an entirely different life back then. Now… Now Hermione had a baby and Chris was in a loveless marriage. But one thing remained the same: How much he loved his best mate.)

Chris had left the next morning, planting a kiss on Ron’s lips with promises to see him soon to properly talk. When she returned home to ready herself for work, Seamus was already gone for the day. The relief that had flooded her system was overwhelming.

She couldn’t ignore the guilt in her chest. She’d cheated on her husband. Sure, he was a cheater too, but Chris had always prided herself on her loyalty. But why should she be loyal to someone who wouldn’t do the same?


	2. ii

It was four weeks later when Chris was hit with the consequences of cheating on her husband, indicated by several white plastic sticks that smelled like urine, each with two pink lines or a plus sign. The spell she’d cast hours before hadn’t been enough to convince her, but the damn muggle inventions had

The last four weeks had been glorious, going to Ron’s in the dead of night to be showered in the love she lacked at home only to sneak back just before dawn. But then she realized why all those nights they’d been free to fall into bed together- her last period had been just days before she first fell into bed with her best mate, her lover, her _soulmate_.

There was a sick relief when she added the dates and realized there was no way her husband could be the father of the child growing inside of her.

Once she was cleaned up and the tests were properly disposed of in a place Seamus would never see, she checked the clock. Ron would be at quidditch practice for another hour or so and Seamus wouldn’t be home for several days.

(“ _I haven’t seen my dad’s family in so long, dear. It’s best if you don’t come, the lot of them don’t know about magic._ ” What a load of rubbish. He knew she was raised muggle and knew much more about muggle living than he did… he was off on spending days with Dean. She didn’t care, really, she just wished the lies would just _stop_ already.)

Weighing her options, she crinkled her nose as she slipped on her shoes. Ron would be thrilled to see her in the stands as he practiced. She loved the way his face would light up when he saw her sitting there, eyes only ever on him.

By the time she made it, though, between the security and people stopping to talk to her, Ron was landing on the field and trudging back to the locker room. Chris was quick to intercept him at the door, ignoring looks from his teammates. Once they disappeared through the door, leaving her alone with Ron, his face broke into a grin.

“Chrissy,” He glanced around, double checking that they were alone, and kissed her softly. She couldn’t even bring herself to call him gross and sweaty in that moment, not when she needed his presence so desperately. “What are you doing here? Not that I mind or anything.” He brushed her hair from her face.

“I needed to see you,” She said, flushing, “I just… Ron, I don’t want to be away from you.”

He gave her the smile he had only for her, the one that reminded her that he was her best friend no matter what. “I don’t want to be away from you either. We can head home just as soon as I grab my wand and clothes. I can shower at home after we eat.”

She nodded and he jogged into the locker room. _Home._ Home had never really been a place to her. Hogwarts had been home, of course, but so had the Burrow and Grimmauld Place. Her house she shared with Seamus hadn’t been home, not ever, but Ron’s flat had been home since he first moved into it. It was right to think of it as home, with his clothes always strewn about, fridge overflowing with leftover takeout, and perpetually unmade bed. Every attempt she’d made at cleaning it had ended in him coming through like the tornado he was and making a mess of it.

He was what made it home, Chris determined.

Ron was back in less than a minute, no longer in his uniform but rather in jeans and an old t-shirt. A wide smile grew on her face when she remembered she’d gotten that shirt for him as a joke when they were 19 simply because it had a motif of a spider on it. He grabbed her hand before she could open her mouth and apparated them away, landing in the middle of his sitting room. She rolled her eyes as he promptly tossed his dirt uniform onto the ground.

“Ron, there’s a basket in your room for a reason,” She said.

“But that’s all the way down the hall,” He whined.

“You’re impossible, Ron,” Chris clicked her tongue as she bent down to pick up after him.

Ron watched her for but a moment before putting a hand on her lower back. She straightened herself and stared up at him curiously.

He spoke in a soft tone, in the raw and emotional one she heard so rarely, “Chrysanthemum, are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

Chris bit her lip. Of course he knew something was up. She’d never hidden her emotions well.

“I need you to remain calm until I finish telling you this, okay?” She said, grabbing his hands and leading him to his couch. They sat together, knee to knee. He reached over and placed his hands on her legs, assuring her.

“Of course, Love,” He said, “Whatever this is, I’ve got you. Unless, of course, you don’t want me to… wait, are you ending this?”

Chris’s eyes widened at his sudden panicked spiral and she shook her head. “Merlin, no Ron! I never want to end this. That’s actually why… why I needed to see you. I… Gods, this is hard to say. If it was just you and me this would be easy and I wouldn’t be so…”

“Chris, what’re you on about?” Ron cupped her cheek, attempting to bring her back to herself.

“I’m pregnant, Ron. You and I are having a baby,” She blurted out. She watched his face morph through several emotions rapidly. Shock, fear, excitement, and pure joy.

“We’re having a baby,” He whispered.

“We’re having a baby.”

Chris felt immense relief as he pulled her to him, pressing his lips to hers. A deep, rumbling laugh burst out from his chest and she couldn’t hold her own back. He kissed her cheek and pulled back to stare at her.

“I’m going to stop by the Civil and Domestic office tomorrow. The papers are ready, they just need to be signed,” Chris beamed. Ron seemed to radiate warmth at the statement. He leaned back against the arm of the couch and pulled her to lean her back against his chest. His hands rested on her stomach, their fingers twined together.

“He still hasn’t figured it out yet?” He asked, leaning down and craning his neck to plant a kiss behind her ear.

“Even if he has, he doesn’t care.”

“How are you going to give him the papers?”

“I was thinking that I could just leave them on the kitchen table and make it obvious I’d like him to leave,” She shrugged, enjoying her place in his arms. This right here, this was the last thing she’d needed in her life.

“Or you could leave them on the kitchen table and move in here,” Ron suggested.

Chris turned her head, looking up at him. He stared at her, his chin to his chest, and pecked her lips.

“Move in here. I can clear out that second room, I just use it as storage. We’ll use it as a nursery,” Ron said.

“I swear if you call me to kill any spiders when you’re cleaning, I’ll lock you in there,” Chris teased.

“It was one time!” He exclaimed, blushing.

“One time here. About a hundred times at Grimmauld, and even more at the Burrow,” She giggled, “You’re a wizard, Ron, and you helped defeat Voldemort.”

He crinkled his nose, “You’re scared of frogs and toads, Mumz. You’re one to talk, Miss _Woman Who Won._ ”

“They’re mouths with legs! Who wouldn’t find that disturbing?” She pouted.

“Most people.”

Chris groaned and sunk back against his chest. He chuckled and kissed the crown of her head.

(Frogs and toads, Chris had determined long ago, were the one thing she actually despised. They were slimy little creatures, disturbing and disgusting. While they hadn’t been her boggart, she knew she had a fear. Ron and Hermione had learned long ago, only days after the Halloween that formed their trio, when Neville’s toad Trevor had jumped on her.

Ron had been quick to grab Trevor and throw him to Neville while Hermione comforted the shrieking Chris. Needless to say, her housemates were dumbfounded that Chrysanthemum Potter, the Girl-Who-Lived, who’d helped take down a mountain troll at 11, was terrified of the small amphibians. It, at least, made Ron feel better about his fear of spiders and Neville feel better about his general fear towards everything.)

Chris was smart about the whole marriage thing, despite the mistake in doing it to begin with. Remus had suggested a prenup to protect the Potter name and assets, along with the Black name. Because of it, she got to keep her name and knew that her family’s legacy would be protected no matter what. Seamus would get nothing. Not because Chris was selfish, but because they’d not been married long enough for him to get anything.

How grateful she was that Remus had brought it up when she got engaged, because otherwise, she knew she’d be screwed over. Court would’ve been necessary, which meant unwanted attention. The muggle ceremony had made the process even easier- she just needed Seamus’s signatures and initials. Of course, he could fight it, but Chris doubted he would. Not when so many would question why Chris Potter wanted a divorce.

Knowing that Seamus was due home that evening, Chris couldn’t help the pettiness of her actions. She cooked a dinner for him, the last he would ever get from her, and set it on the table neatly. Next to it the file laid, with clear instructions where to turn it in.

(Perhaps it was cruel of her to tell him to give Dean her love, but she just couldn’t help it.)

With a final check through of the house she’d never wanted to live in to begin with, she stepped through the floo to Ron’s flat. She’d sent along all her belongings earlier as Ron desperately tried to clean. Keyword, _tried_. Chris pinched the bridge of her nose when she found his Hogwarts textbooks scattered on the floor. At least, she thought, that he’s managed to rid of all his ill-fitting clothes and put the rest away. He’d even put hers away, a welcome surpise.

“Ron, we don’t need to keep these,” She said, squatting down to him.

“Yes, we do! Look,” He grinned and opened his first-year DADA book and pointed at handwriting in the margins.

 _“I reckon he’s afraid of his own shadow,”_ Chris read off and realized it was her messy scrawl.

 _“He’s obviously not a Gryffindor,”_ Ron read with a triumphant grin.

“I forgot we used to do this,” She breathed out, tracing their words, “When did we stop?”

“Sixth year, during the Lavender fiasco,” He admitted.

“I’ve got to find my old textbooks now… I think they’re at Grimmauld.”

“Hermione would’ve killed us if she caught us.”

“She would’ve killed you; she would’ve scolded me.”

Ron stuck his tongue out at her. Chris replied in similar fashion.

“Let’s put them in the Grimmauld library,” She said, “We can actually send most of this stuff there.”

“Why there?” Ron furrowed his brow.

“I figured, well, when we have more children, we’d want to move into the house. Especially with Hermione living right over there,” She blushed, “Not anytime soon, of course. Just in the future, when we’re ready.”

 _When we have more children._ The words rang in his ears. How good that sounded, _children_ , when she was still only just pregnant with their first.

“I’d love that,” Ron said and planted a kiss on her nose.

Once their home was clean and their stomachs full of that cheap muggle Chinese restaurant that Chris loved so much and seemed to sate Ron’s appetite like no other place did, they found themselves in bed. The scene, to Ron, was domestic, simple, and _all he ever wanted_. She was curled up on her side of the bed, an issue of Quidditch Monthly capturing her attention.

“ _Why did Chrysanthemum Potter refuse a spot with the Harpies? Former schoolmate Eloise Midgen tells all!_ ” Chris reads off.

“Eloise… wasn’t she in our year?” Ron asked as he tossed his shirt to the laundry basket, missing.

“She was mine and Hermione’s dormmate,” Chris replied, “ _Ronald_ , you’re a keeper, not a chaser. Pick that up.”

“I remember her now! She had the off-center nose,” Ron grinned, proud of himself. He grabbed his shirt and made a show of gently setting it in the basket, patting it when he laid it down.

Chris rolled her eyes, both at his statement and his actions before skimming the article, “Well, apparently I don’t play quidditch because of an injury I got during the Final Battle.”

“That’s rubbish,” Ron walked around to her side of the bed and kissed her with a smirk, “We all know it was because you couldn’t bring yourself to compete against me.”

“Oh, shove it,” She pinched his waist.

He yelped out, much to her satisfaction. Whatever he was going to say next, though, was taken from his mouth because all of the sudden, a knock at the entrance door boomed out. Ron quickly lunged and grabbed his wand, at the ready. There was a dark flash in eyes before he realized just where he was. Chris gave him a reassuring look. She had her moments still, the ones where she forgot that the war was over, and she was no longer running for her life. In retrospect, perhaps becoming a Auror hadn’t been her best move.

“Ron! Are you home?! I can’t find Chris!” Seamus yelled. Chris sat up straight, eyes wide. She hadn’t anticipated Seamus seeking her out. And if Ron’s face was any indication, he hadn’t either.

“I’ve got it, stay here,” Ron whispered and headed out of their room, closing the door behind him. She heard him greet Seamus as if nothing was wrong.

“Ron, mate, has Chris stopped by? She’s left me. All her stuff gone, she left me divorce papers,” Seamus explained, panicked.

“No, I haven’t seen her,” Ron replied. Chris was struck by how authentic he sounded when he lied so easily to Seamus, “I haven’t spoken to her in days. Why would she leave you, Seamus? You two seem so happy.”

And then she realized what he was doing. He was trying to get an admission of guilt.

Seamus sighed heavily, “I… I’ve gone and mucked it up. You know, back in school, me and Dean, we were close… I cheated on her, with him.”

There was an odd weight lifted from her, hearing his admission.

“But it’s over now, Ron. I ended it with him. I… I need Chris, I need to work it out with her. I _love_ her.”

“Seamus, I can’t help you. I don’t know where she is to begin with, but if I did, I certainly wouldn’t tell you now. Chris is my best friend,” Ron’s tone was tense, “I think it’s best if you leave.”

“Y-yeah, I understand. Sorry to bother you so late,” Seamus said, his heavy footsteps leading out of the flat. Chris winced as Ron shut the door just a little too hard.

He joined her in their room moments later, face red. He paced for a minute (or several, they didn’t bother to count) before sitting on the bed and wrapping his arms around her. Ron buried his face into her chest. Chris knew it was for nothing but comfort. He’d been doing it long before she had breasts, long before their feelings for one another shifted from platonic and familial. She stroked his perfectly ginger hair, attempting to soothe him.

“I should’ve killed him for saying that he loves you,” Ron mumbled, “He’s a fucking arse.”

“He is,” She agreed, “But he isn’t worth the time. Once the papers are signed Ron, we’ll never see him again.”

“We better not,” He huffed and pulled from the embrace, “He doesn’t deserve to love you.”

“Oh, Ron,” She smiled and cupped his cheek, “I’m so grateful for you. I love you.”

“I love you too,” He seemed much more at ease with her words. She caught his lips with hers, letting him take dominance like he needed in that moment. Ron pushed her down softly, lips never leaving hers as he used one of his long legs to separate hers. His hand quickly slipped into her nighty shorts and stroked her through her panties. “Mine, all mine,” He rasped out, breaking their kiss.

Before she had the opportunity to reply, they heard the floo flare up. Ron pulled his hand out of her shorts quickly and cursed quietly.

“Maybe we can act like we’re not home,” She muttered.

Unfortunately, that wouldn’t work. Not when Hermione’s voice called out to Ron.

“Ronald Weasley, you better have your pants on!” She yelled as she opened his bedroom door. Not paying attention as she spoke, “Seamus just stopped in, saying that Chris left him and he couldn’t find her.” Chris gulped as she waited for her dearest friend to realize she was there.

“Draco’s sending for his mother to watch Scorpius so we can look for her,” Hermione continued on, eyes not leaving a very bemused Ron. “I don’t think he’s telling me everything, Ron, Chris wouldn’t- _Chrissy_.”

The look on Hermione’s face was not soon to leave their minds.

“Hermione, I think the three of us need a night,” Ron said sheepishly. Chris groaned as Hermione quickly sent a message to her husband.

(As the story unfolded for Hermione, she found herself feeling less and less surprised. Her two dolts for best friends had managed to finally realize just how they felt towards one another after years of mutual pining. She never believed Chris when she’d claimed she was over Ron after the war. Ron hadn’t bothered to hide that he was still in love with her. Hermione never stopped blaming Ron for asking Lavender out when Chris had made it obvious how she felt. He’d always been oblivious, but that time had nearly been enough to break their trio apart. Hermione was the one that expressed anger on behalf of her dear friend. The only time Chris ever expressed it herself was when Ron rejoined them on the hunt- he ended up with a black-eye both girls refused to heal.)

“Chrissy, Ron, you buffoons,” Hermione finally said pinched the bridge her nose, “I spent years trying to get you both to admit how you feel and you decide the perfect time is while she’s married?”

Ron flushes, “I thought-”

“I know what you thought and now you know I was right! Ronald, honestly, even your father told you to object!” Hermione groaned.

“Arthur told you to object?” Chris asked, brows raised.

“Everyone told him to object, Chrysanthemum! Why do you think I asked if you were sure?”

“Isn’t that what all maids of honor are supposed to ask?”

“No! Dear Gods, aren’t you supposed to be smart?”

“That’s you, you’re the smart one!”

“Well you’re not an idiot, Chris!”

Instead of laughing like both Ron and Hermione thought, she burst into tears. Hermione’s eyes widened and Ron looked horrified.

“Chris, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it-”

“No, no, it’s fine, Mione,” Chris sniffled, “This is just hormones, I think.”

“Hormones?” Hermione furrowed her brow before she realized just what she meant, “You’re…”

“It’s definitely Ron’s before you ask,” Chris smiled softly.

Hermione blinked owlishly.

“Alright, Chrissy budge over, I’m spending the night,” She sighed and kicked her slippers off, crawling from the foot of the bed and plopping herself next to Chris. Chris scooted close to middle and laid down next to Hermione.

“Ron, turn off the light,” Chris demanded as she curled up with Hermione.

Ron chuckled and obliged. Once the light was off, he wrapped his arms around both girls, as if protecting the small-framed women.

“When was the last time we did this?” Chris asked quietly.

“Around Christmas, the night I found out I was pregnant,” Hermione whispered.

“Remember when my mum found us like this just before fourth year?” Ron snickered.

“I don’t know why you’re laughing, she nearly killed you,” Hermione replied.

“She told us to stop doing it though,” Ron argued, “And here we are, 9 years later.”

“Remus told me was bloody confused when he saw me and Hermione in your dorm on the map,” Chris recalled.

“Everyone who knew was confused, Chrissy,” Hermione remarked, “Except Lavender. Lavender wanted to kill us.”

“We wanted to kill her.”

“Lavender knew?” Ron asked.

“Only when Chris told her after you broke up with her. Asked us where we were going one night and Chris said, and I quote, ‘ _Ron’s bed needs to be warmed._ ’” They could hear the smirk in Hermione’s voice.

“ _You didn’t_ ,” Ron said in disbelief.

“Hermione made it worse,” Chris giggled, “Told her there’s no one you need more than us.”

“You two are twisted,” Ron grinned and kissed Chris’s ear.

“Yeah, mate, yet you still decided to be friends with us,” Chris said and hugged Hermione a little tighter. The trio laughed before settling down.

“I better be Godmother, by the way,” Hermione said as a final thought as they fell asleep.

* * *

As time went on, Chris’s stomach grew. And as her stomach grew, more questions were asked by the Weasleys. All that had been said was that Chris was getting divorced once she had received the letter indicating Seamus had refused to sign the papers. She’d used it as an excuse to take a leave of absence from the Auror department, but in reality, she was just hiding her growing stomach from the world. When the quidditch season began, her appearances at Ron’s games were quieter than ever, often spent in a private box seating section that was reserved for his family.

It was Ron’s birthday, his 24th, and a loud and very boisterous celebration despite the final snowfall of the season outside. At just over 6 months pregnant, all Chris could do was sit and watch as the Weasleys, her family, ate more food than she knew possible. George was alone with one-year-old Fred II, Angelina having been feeling too ill to join. Ginny was joined by Theo Nott, the man she’d been seeing for just over two years that Chris swore would end in marriage. Percy had his wife, Audrey, by his side. Bill and (a very pregnant) Fleur had their two children between them, Victoire and Louis, 4 and 2 respectively. Hermione and Draco had nine-month old Scorpius with them, and Charlie was Merlin knows where. And of course, the nearly six-year-old Teddy was there with Remus. Neville had stopped by with his wife Hannah, and Luna with her husband Newt, but only for mere moments, it felt like.

Molly looked on at her family with pride, quite pleased with how it’d come together. This was all she’d ever wanted for herself- to be a good mother to many children. And now she was reaping the benefits, with her numerous grandchildren, both biological and adopted.

(Now, if only Chrysanthemum had married Ron… How she longed to have dear Chrissy as an official Weasley…)

And suddenly, Charlie was in the room all bundled in his outdoor clothing, a mischievous grin on his face.

“The snow is good,” He announced. Molly pinched the bridge of her nose as all of her children (and her husband, dear Merlin, why?) jumped up, summoning their coats. Remus snickered as he joined in, bundling Teddy up. Victoire was quick to scramble to get her coat. Even Draco found himself getting ready to pelt Theo with snow. Molly happily took young Fred and Scorpius as George and Hermione flooded outside with everyone else. Only her, the young children, and Fleur stayed comfortably inside.

At least until Ron back came in, pulling Chris along.

“You’re too pregnant to be out there like that,” Ron scolded softly.

“I am not, Ronald. I’m pregnant, not an invalid,” Chris rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, well, you’ll catch your death with how bloody cold it is. It’s dangerous,” He argued.

“I watch you on a broom hundreds of feet above the earth weekly, which is far more dangerous than me playing in the snow,” She huffed.

“No, Chrysanthemum. What if you fall? You can’t get hurt, not when it can hurt both of you,” He reasoned.

“Then I don’t want you out there!” She stomped her foot, tears forming in her eyes.

Ron chuckled a bit, “Alright, okay, anything for my girls.” He planted a kiss on her forehead and she immediately gave him a content smile.

Fleur acted as if she hadn’t heard anything, quickly leading Louis and carrying the babies into the sitting room with all their toys.

“So, Chrissy dear, you’re having a girl?” Molly asked with a knowing look as Ron and Chris took their spots at the table sheepishly.

“I, uhm, I am, yes,” Chris stumbled over her words slightly.

“Any name ideas, Dear?” Molly reached over and scooped more potatoes onto her plate.

“Hermione suggested the name Rose and I fell in love with it. I don’t really feel like she’s a Lily,” Chris explained, “Besides, the more variety of flowers, the better.”

“Rose… I think that’s absolutely darling,” Molly grinned, “Ron, have you suggested any names?”

“I’m rather fond of Daisy,” Ron flushed.

“Daisy,” Molly tested the name aloud.

“It doesn’t go too well with Weasley, does it? It rhymes a bit much,” Chris said suddenly, finally revealing the truth to Molly. Ron smiled slightly and reached for Chris’s hand.

“Not that much, Chrissy. It would be cute. Daisy Weasley,” Ron said.

“Too many ‘y’ sounding endings, with her middle name. Rose Weasley is sweeter sounding,” Chris insisted, “Plus, think about when she gets in trouble. I’d rather yell Rose than Daisy.”

“I suppose you’re right. _And_ Rose’s do tend to be red and there’s no way our girl will be anything other than a redhead,” Ron curled a bit of Chris’s hair around his finger.

Molly watched the banter, processing what she’d been told. Chris’s daughter was a Weasley. Not just in name, by Ron’s indication.

“The middle name, should we tell her now?” Chris asked, leaning against his hand.

Ron beamed, pride etched on his face. “We’ve decided that our daughter should carry my mother’s name with her. Rose Molly Weasley.”

“There’s truly no better name for her than after the woman that was a mother to _both_ her parents,” Chris agreed.

“She’s… she’s a Weasley? You two…?” Molly stared at them, joy bubbling in her chest. Had these two _finally_ figured themselves out?

“We’re still keeping it quiet, just because the divorce is being made so public and we really don’t to deal with the backlash about my pregnancy,” Chris explained.

“If it’s okay Mum, can you keep this from everyone else until Rosie’s born? Only Hermione knows, and Draco too,” Ron grumbled the last bit.

(Draco had, in fact, become a very large part of the family, much to Ron’s dismay. They had an anomalous at best, hostile at worst sort of friendship, but it worked. On more than one occasion, Hermione and Chris had found Draco and Ron drunk together, laughing as if they’d always been the best of buddies. Draco had actually been the one to soothe Ron’s anxieties about Chris’s pregnancy, but neither man would ever admit to such things.)

“Of course,” Molly said, giddiness in her tone, “It is about time, you know. From the time you were both 13, I swore that you’d be getting married as soon as you graduated. There’s a reason I tried putting you in Ginny’s room, Chrissy. And then there was Minerva… She told me, along with Sirius, right before your fifth year that she was concerned that you two were intimate and had drawn up the permission forms to discuss safe intimacy and proper potions and spells.”

Chris bit back her laughter at Ron’s horrified face.

“That explains why Sirius was so short with you at the end of the Holiday, Ron,” Chris snickered.

“I mean it explains why you made us keep our door open every holiday,” Ron muttered.

“I didn’t want to become a grandmother quiet yet,” She tsked, “Especially from my youngest son.”

“Good thing we waited then, eh?” Chris remarked.

Molly and Chris began to talk, but Ron’s mind was caught on one particular memory.

The night he realized that maybe, just maybe, he had feelings for his best mate.

(The damn Yule Ball. They’d gone together after both of them had faced rejections from those they’d asked. That, that had been the night for Ron. He’d seen how devastatingly beautiful she was in her pretty midnight blue gown but how saddened she’d seemed at another champion dancing with a pretty Ravenclaw.

 _“Was is Diggory you asked?”_ Ron asked as they sat eating.

 _“Erm, yeah. He said he wanted to ask me, but figured I was already going with you,”_ She shrugged.

 _“I’m sorry, Mumz,”_ Ron patted her on the shoulder. He couldn’t help but feel a little smug, though. The Hufflepuff pretty boy had thought that he, _Ronald Weasley_ , had claim over Chrysanthemum Potter.

 _“It’s fine mate, I’d rather be with you. Better company, in retrospect,”_ She assured him, _“You know better than to make me slow dance_ and _you know that I hate ice in my drinks.”)_

Yes, Ron thought now as he watched his love speak to his mother, he knew Chris best. His hand slipped into his pocket and played with the ring Hermione had helped him pick out. 

He would melt all the ice in world for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah dude, I'm writing an epilogue. 
> 
> Side note: After I finish this little three parter and post the next chapter of No Time to Breathe, I'll be working on a fem!Harry/Ron fic because I'm sorry but there is not nearly enough of them out there


	3. iii. epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a departure from the previous tone of the story, but I just think the next gen was too cute to leave out. 
> 
> Also Rose is a total asshole but a lovable one. Scorpius is a little shit too.

Rose Molly Weasley knew she stood out in her family. It was not the red hair, not when nearly all of them had it. She was rather small framed compared to the rest, but so was her mum, so that didn’t make her all that different. Nor was it the fact she was girl.

(Despite having three younger brothers, being a girl wasn’t all that special in her family. She had plenty of girl cousins to prove that.)

Really, Rose didn’t consider herself that special. Sure, she was the daughter of two-thirds the Golden Trio, but Scorpius was the son of one-third. But still, everyone in her family seemed to look at her as if she was a miracle.

Whenever she brought up how all her aunts and uncles and even her grandparents looked at her, her parents would simply smile and kiss her forehead.

What was so bloody different about her?

She didn’t have much time to think as her younger brothers came tearing through the library with Scorpius’s younger twin siblings. Rose scrambled to get her feet off the ground and onto the couch, worried about getting run over by the five of them once again.

Scorpius hurried in, red in the face after running up the stairs of Grimmauld.

“I said I’d beat them in a race,” He huffed as they all pushed past him and back onto the stairs, most likely to Siri’s room.

“Foolish,” She said dryly and moved her feet so he could sit next to her.

“Well it got them away from our parents,” He grinned lopsidedly. Rose snorted.

“I’m sure they’ll appreciate it until one of those wrecking balls breaks a bone.”

“The lot of them, all Gryffindor.”

“At least we can maintain some peace.”

“Yeah, right. Roxie is going to give Fred puppy dog eyes until he gives her the password,” Scorpius rolled his eyes.

“You mean Lyra is going to give you puppy dog eyes and _you_ spill it?”

“I have hope Lyra is a Slytherin yet,” He defended, “Separating her and Leo would do them some good.”

“Leo will be sorted first, and we both know there is no other place than Gryffindor for him, Scorp. Lyra is sure to go where he is.”

Scorpius pouted for a moment.

“That look is so unbecoming of you,” She said before turning her nose back to her book. Scorpius grabbed it from her quickly, smirking.

“Excited for Hogsmeade this year?” He asked.

She narrowed her eyes, “I snuck in with you all of last year, Scorpius, I don’t find it necessary to be excited. Now give me my book back.” She reached for it and he held it back from her.

“Merlin, you’re worse than my mum,” Scorpius groaned before a mischievous look flashed in his eyes. He stood and shoved it down his pants. “Now you have no choice but to talk to me.”

“If you think that’s going to stop me, you’re obviously not all that Slytherin.”

His eyes widened and he sprinted away.

“Coward!” She yelled, running after him.

Rose chased him into the sitting room, where their parents sat talking about the upcoming Malfoy-Weasley vacation to Russia.

“Malfoy, I will kill you!” Rose yelled, face a red that was nearly the same shade as her hair.

“Only if you catch me, Weasley!” Scorpius taunted as he wove between the couch and chairs.

“One moment they’re me and Ron, the next they’re you two,” Chris remarked to Hermione and Draco. Rose and Scorpius shared the same look despite the chase, used to their parents’ insinuations. But unfortunately for Scorpius, in that slight moment he faltered, Rose used the advantage and captured him, ready to rip him apart.

Draco laughed, “I just hope I don’t have to sit through another Potter woman’s divorce hearing.”

Rose and Scorpius froze at that remark, her hand fisted in his collar.

Hermione promptly smacked Draco’s arm. Ron and Chris shared a look, slight worry on their faces.

“Divorce?” Rose raised a brow.

“It was a joke?” Draco tried.

Ron snorted, “Mate, gigs up.”

“Sorry,” He said sheepishly.

“It’s fine. I suppose it’s time we told her,” Chris assured him.

“Told me what?” Rose asked, slowly loosening her grip on her best friend. Scorpius tried to slip away, only for her to send him a scathing glare that sent him rigid.

“I was married before your father and I were together,” Chris began.

“That’s not a big deal. I mean, I know you and Daddy still only got engaged when I was four-” She went quiet for a moment.

Ron immediately saw where her thoughts went and interrupted quickly, “Darling, you are mine, don’t doubt that for a moment.”

Rose sagged in relief before she grew suspicious once more. Then it clicked for her.

“Oh, Mum cheated on her husband with you, right? I don’t see the big deal. Makes sense for you two,” She shrugged.

Ron began to splutter, and Draco burst into laughter.

“Makes sense? Bloody hell, what kind of witch do you think I am?” Chris huffed, more to herself than anyone else.

“I mean, Mum, I’ve seen pictures of you and Daddy when you were young. You two were in love, at least from the time you were 15. Daddy was always smiling and staring at you. If you married anyone else, it makes sense you’d have an affair with each other,” Rose explained.

“Dear Merlin, are you sure Rose isn't Hermione's?” Draco muttered.

“Not really,” Ron replied, "She's got the best and worse of her and Chris."

“Is that all?” Rose asked with an eye roll.

“I suppose,” Chris chuckled.

Rose grinned and before Scorpius could escape her, she grabbed him, immediately fished her book out of his pants, and sprinted up the stairs, the boy red in the face but hot in pursuit.

Ron and Draco were pale at the scene they’d just witnessed whereas Hermione and Chris could sigh.

“I could’ve gone my whole life without seeing my daughter stick her hand down a boy’s pants and I would’ve died happy,” Ron whimpered out.

“We’re changing the hotel arrangements, right?” Draco looked pleadingly to his wife.

“Would you like to tell Lyra that she won’t be with Leo and Siri?” Hermione asked.

“Scorpius can share with Albus and Ronnie,” Ron said eagerly.

“You’re not sticking a 14-year-old boy with a nine and seven-year-old, especially those two. Have you even met our sons, Ronald?” Chris gave him an incredulous look.

“I don’t want to be a grandfather!” Ron whined.

“Neither do I!” Draco agreed.

“She’s threatening to cut my balls off, it’s not happening for at least ten years,” Scorpius remarked as he ran through the room to the kitchen.

“It’s not happening at all!” Rose screamed as she went after him. Once she disappeared into the kitchen, the parents heard her cry out, “Take your pants off Scorpius!”

“They need marriage counselling!” Lyra called from up the stairs.

"Or a divorce!" Leo added.

“I need a drink,” Ron sagged back into the couch, face in hands.

“We all do, Love,” Chris sighed.

* * *

“Maybe we were wrong,” Ron whispered to Chris as they watched Rose dance with Samuel Bell-Wood at the end of war anniversary gala.

“She’s only 17, Ron. It took us how long to get it right?” Chris replied, “Besides, look at Scorp.”

Ron looked over to his godson. He recognized the look on the young man’s face- it was one Ron had seen in the mirror all those years ago. Scorpius was gripping his glass, knuckles white.

“Let’s just hope he’s more selfish than me, Mate,” Ron sighed.

“Darling, he’s a Slytherin, he is far more selfish than you,” Chris assured, “But Samuel is too. Samuel will marry Rose, with or without our permission.”

“He’s going to what?” Ron blinked in shock.

“Ron, Samuel told me he's planning on proposing after they graduate next month,” Chris patted Ron’s shoulder, “Now, I’ll let Rose make her own decisions, much like everyone else allowed me to. You should as well, but I think you should talk to Scorpius. She’s clueless as to how he feels about her.”

“I swear, she’s too much like you,” Ron muttered, “And I suppose I may’ve rubbed off on Scorp a bit.”

“Which is why you need to talk to him. What words would’ve convinced you to tell me?” Chris raised a brow.

“You’re a bloody genius, Chrissy,” Ron grinned and kissed her lovingly before hurrying over to Scorpius.

The blonde was glowering, obviously trying to kill Samuel with a look alone. Merlin, how familiar that was.

“You know you could just tell her, right?” Ron drawled. Scorpius jumped a bit, just noticing his godfather’s appearance.

“Tell her what?” Scorpius bristled.

“You know what, kid,” Ron replied and grabbed Scorpius’s whiskey, taking a sip.

Scorpius sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“Dad said the same thing.”

“Then why haven’t you told her?”

“I just want her happy, Uncle Ron,” Scorpius said in a desperate tone, “I need her happy.”

“And who is to say you wouldn’t make her happy?”

“Have you seen how she smiles with him?”

“I have. And I’ve seen how she smiles with you.”

“I’m practically her family.”

“That’s what I thought, y’know. I thought Chris was too much of my best friend to be my wife. So, I let her get married to another man and she was miserable,” Ron explained.

“But look at you now, you’ve got Rose, Siri, Albus, and Ronnie. You two were obviously meant for each other.”

“Rose was born out of an affair her mother and I had,” Ron stressed, “It took years for the divorce to go through, and even then, Chrissy and I still haven’t gotten married. We got distracted, and if I’m being honest, too much has happened and we’re probably not going to get married. It doesn’t mean we’re not happy, but I always think about how it could’ve been if I told her how I felt when we were younger. She and I may’ve had more kids, we could’ve gotten married right after the war. She wouldn’t have dealt with the pain of being cheated on by her husband.”

“Rose doesn’t feel that way for me,” Scorpius argued weakly.

“Oh, fuck off with that, kid. Next month, Rose is graduating from Hogwarts and that boy over there will propose to her. She will say yes because she thinks she has no chance with you. And frankly, Scorpius, I’d really rather not have him as a son-in-law. His parents played for _Puddlemere United_.”

Scorpius gave his godfather an incredulous look. Ron rolled his eyes.

“Scorpius, go tell my daughter how you feel or so help me I will tell your parents about the time I picked you up from a pub.”

The boy’s face burned.

Ron watched in satisfaction when Scorpius scurried over to Rose and sent a smug grin to Samuel as he cut into dance.

* * *

“Ronald Bilius Weasley, what the hell did you tell Scorpius?!” Chris pulled him by his bicep out of the grand ballroom. Hermione was with her, a look on her face that was torn between anger and humor.

“What happened?” Ron hiccupped as Draco stumbled into the hall with them.

“While you and Draco were drinking, you missed the part where my son suddenly became a Gryffindor and _got into a fight_ your daughter’s boyfriend,” Hermione snapped.

“That’s my boy!” Draco exclaimed, throwing his arm around Ron. Ron laughed.

Chris pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Is Scorp my son-in-law yet?” Ron asked excitedly.

Hermione huffed and silently cast a charm over the men, sobering them.

“What’s happened?” Draco cleared his throat and straightened himself out. Ron stood up straight, cheeks red.

“Scorpius decided to attack Samuel,” Chris gritted out, glaring at Ron.

“I did not tell him to do that,” Ron gaped, “I told him why you and I still aren’t married.”

“You told him Seamus cheated on me, didn’t you?” Chris pursed her lips.

“I didn’t think he would punch Samuel,” He defended.

“Scorp has wanted to kill the kid for ages,” Draco started weakly, “I may’ve told him he should take a swing at him eventually.”

“You’re sleeping on the couch tonight,” Hermione hissed at Draco, “No guest rooms. _Couch_.”

“Yes, Dear,” Draco muttered.

“Where’d he go?” Ron asked, “We’ll go talk to him.”

“Rose pulled him through the Floo by his ear, Ron,” Chris rolled her eyes.

Draco opened his mouth to remark, only for Samuel to burst into the hall with a black eye and a bleeding nose.

“Mr. Weasley, Ms. Potter, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, have you seen Rose?” Samuel asked, taking deep breaths.

“I’m afraid not, Samuel,” Hermione said, “I’m so very sorry for what my son did. I’ll be having words with him.”

“No, no, Mrs. Malfoy, he’s right to be mad… I didn’t tell him what I was planning on doing until right before,” Samuel replied, sheepish, “I know he and Rosie are like brother and sister, I was disrespectful.”

“Disrespectful how?” Ron rose to his full height, looking as intimidating as ever.

“I was about to propose,” Samuel gulped and pulled out a ring.

Chris’s only thought was how gawdy it was, gold with large diamonds, and how much Rose would loathe it. She was a simple girl- Rose liked silver and rubies.

“And you didn’t ask my permission? Or her Godfather’s?” Ron narrowed his eyes, gesturing to Draco.

“N-no sir, I wanted to be sure Rose said yes first,” Samuel stuttered.

“Samuel, dear, I think it’s best you leave us for now. We’ll tell Rose you’re looking for her,” Chris interrupted.

“Yes Ms. Potter,” Samuel nodded and hurried back through the ballroom, most likely to the restroom.

“Shall we attempt to find Rose and Scorpius before she kills him? She had NEWTs coming up, I’d rather her not be in prison,” Hermione said, face portraying how worn she was.

“Or worse, she'll be expelled,” Ron muttered. Chris let out a snort of laughter before training her face again and giving him a scolding look.

“I still need that story,” Draco said.

“It was 30 years ago, let it go,” Hermione said as she grabbed Draco’s arm, “We’re checking the our townhouse first, we’ll meet you at Grimmauld.”

“Gotchya, Mione,” Chris grinned and kissed her friend’s cheek before taking Ron’s arm and apparating away.

* * *

By the time the four of them had searched all possible places- both of their Malfoy and Weasley-Potter homes, the Burrow, Scorpius’s office in the Ludicrous Patents department at the ministry, Hogwarts, and parks that the pair had loved as children- it was near 4 am. Chris collapsed into Ron’s lap when he sat in his chair in the sitting room of Grimmauld and Hermione and Draco cradled one another as they all fell asleep.

“She’s got to be back at Hogwarts tomorrow and all her stuff is here,” Chris yawned, as she nodded off in Ron’s lap.

“They’re of age, they not going to do anything too crazy,” Hermione mumbled, nuzzling into Draco’s arms.

“Go to sleep,” Draco demanded, only to be met with Ron’s snores.

* * *

Ron’s eyes cracked open to Rose’s giggling only hours later.

“Look at them,” Rose whispered, leaning into Scorpius’s arms. Both were in muggle clothes now, jeans and t-shirts, as opposed to the gown and dress robes from the gala.

He grinned down at her, “It’s the calm before the storm.”

“What storm?” Draco groaned as he sat up, “Please tell me you’re still capable of having children.”

Hermione slapped her husband’s chest lightly and rubbed her eyes.

“Where were you two?” Chris asked.

Scorpius and Rose shared a mischievous look.

“Mum, Dad, I’d like you to meet your daughter-in-law, Rose Molly Malfoy, nee Weasley,” Scorpius announced.

Rose thrust out her left hand, showing off the thin silver band with a small ruby laid in it.

“Daddy, Mum, meet my husband,” Rose grinned.

“Oh, thank Merlin, I don’t have to pay for a wedding,” Ron said.

Chris looked at him, exasperated, “ _Ronald_.”

* * *

“You know Mum, you and Daddy should get married,” Rose said to her mother as they packed up her childhood room just over a month later, “Now that the boys are at Hogwarts and I’m moving out, it’s time you two do something for yourselves.”

Chris looked at her daughter, amused. “Who’s to say that we aren’t planning the wedding already?”

“Mum, Daddy hates planning things and you hate big events. You two aren’t planning shit.”

“ _Language._ But you’re right,” Chris chuckled, “I’ll think about it, okay?”

“You better. Papa Remus is getting ancient,” Rose remarked, “He might not be able to walk much longer.”

“ _Rose_ , not funny,” Chris scolded, “Merlin, how does that husband of yours put up with that humor?”

“Because he’s the same way.”

“You’re killing me, you know that, right?”

“I’m just trying to inherit the vast fortune of the Potters, Mum, can you blame me?”

“You’d be grounded for that remark if you still lived here.”

“I accept that.”

* * *

It was another four years before Rose convinced her parents to finally get married. It took Siri’s graduation and subsequent engagement to Lyra Malfoy to get them to agree.

Chris had to admit that getting married 46 was a lot easier than getting married just before turning 22. Especially when she’s been with her fiancée for 23 years and known him for 35.

It’d been so long since she wondered what it was like to be with him, and by the Gods above, she was grateful she didn’t have to wonder.

As Remus held her arm, leading her down the aisle, she finally walked towards the right man.

The man that smelt of her perfume.

He was right, all right. His hair eyes were the perfect shade of blue that she saw in three of her four children’s eyes. He was tall, lanky. His nose was long, hands large, and completely freckled. His hair was the perfect ginger that seemed to be fire in the sunlight.

Ron was perfect.

(And she was all right for him, short and pale and redheaded, his _Chrysanthemum_.)

Remus passed her to Ron, a grin on his now aged face.

“You’re a good man, Ron,” Remus said quietly, “I’m proud of you, Chrissy.”

Remus took his seat beside Molly and Arthur. Only family gathered, including those considered family.

Teddy and Victoire with their two sons, then there was Louis and his boyfriend, Fred II with his fiancée Ally Longbottom, Dominique and her fling of the month- Samuel Bell-Wood- who was hanging on longer than expected, Roxanne, Molly II, Lucy, along with Thea, Marlene, Jean, and Luna- Ginny and Theo’s four daughters.

Leo, with his father’s blonde but his mother’s curls, was seated happily next to Luna, who inherited her mother’s fiery locks. On Leo’s other side was Lyra, with her mother’s hair and father’s eyes, her fingers interlocked with Siri’s. Albus Severus (who was making eyes with Lysander Scamander across the room) sat next to him with Ronald Bilius Jr. on his other side, better known as Ronnie. Next to Ronnie was Rose, with her rounded stomach under Scorpius’s protective hand.

(Draco had cursed the day he realized all of his children were destined for Weasleys.)

It was a small wedding with a large family. Just like Chris wanted.

The ceremony preceded without incident- well, mostly.

“If there are any objections as to why this couple should not be married today, speak now or forever hold your peace,” The officiant declared, looking around at the large family.

Chris could only groan when Ron raised his hand, a playful smirk on his face. She knew what this fool was doing.

“I do!”

“ _Ronald_ ,” Hermione hissed out from her spot next to Chris. Draco, on Ron’s side, had a look of horror. The murmurings of the family rang out, utterly confused.

“Are you kidding me?” Draco bemoaned, “I’ve been waiting 35 years for this!”

“Wait, sorry, I meant to do that a couple decades ago. Wrong ceremony,” Ron announced.

“Ronald Bilius Weasley, marry her already!” Molly yelled.

“Yes Mum,” Ron grinned.

And so he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you see that parallel at the end there? Eh, eh?
> 
> I'm working on NTtB, I swear, but a Ron/Fem!Harry fic might just make its way out sooner. Oops.

**Author's Note:**

> There will be a part two, potentially a part three.


End file.
